


A Weekend in the Cabin

by librarian_of_velaris



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Mild Angst, Mild Smut, Very fluffy, cute feysand, feysand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarian_of_velaris/pseuds/librarian_of_velaris
Summary: When Rhys decides to take Feyre on a weekend trip for themselves, things don't go as planned. Updated every other Friday.





	1. Chapter 1

Rhys took Feyre in his arms and jumped from the House of Wind. 

She let out a scream as they freefell through the air, down to the City of Starlight that they loved so much. Before allowing them to become splatters on pavement, Rhys unfurled his wings, catching an updraft, shooting them right back into the sky, Velaris once again a speck of light on the continent. 

"I like it when you scream," Rhys teased, murmuring into her ear, "maybe I should do that more often." 

"You know, the last male to try that with an Archeron sister got a knee to the groin" Feyre retorted, sending the accompanying image-her sister, hair tousled from the wind, giving Cassian a vulgar gesture before launching herself at him-down the bond. "You've been warned."

A smile formed at the edges of his mouth. "As I recall, darling, Cassian was being a bit of a prick that day, and they weren't mates…yet. You couldn't hurt your charming, devastatingly handsome mate, right?" 

Feyre snorted. "Try me."

With little more than a lazy smile, Rhys shot them further up into the sky, Feyre's screams left far beneath them as the world faded away, leaving them with only the sunset and stars and night.

They soared through shades of red and purple until the sky was nothing but darkness illuminated by stars. Rhys held Feyre close as he flew, showing her the beauties of the night sky-of his home. 

Looking out, Feyre started to glow, happiness pouring out of every crevice of her body, her being. She filled the darkness with day, with light, with love. Feyre was a star in the sky, brighter than any Rhys had ever seen before. She was his star. His mate, his wife, his love. His. 

He flashed Feyre a toothy grin, his joy as tangible as her glow. Red stained her cheeks as Rhys looked her up and down, taking in her features, still bright as day. 

"Feyre, darling, am I making you blush?" He teased, her cheeks coloring even further. 

She glared, her eyes narrowing, and stuck her tongue out. 

Rhys let loose a low chuckle, his breath tickling the inside of Feyre's ear, exactly the right place to…his thoughts quickly turned to actions, nibbling on the top of her ear and slowly working his way down to her earlobe, all the while sending images-of her naked, glowing body beneath his-down the bond. 

As if in retaliation, she slowly dragged a nail down her mate's wing, sending back images of the two of them tangled in the night sky, his body on hers, relishing in each other's touch. She let out a small laugh, knowing the torture it would bring him.

She purred, whispering to her mate. "I've always wondered-" 

"Feyre." Rhys breathed, her name a plea on his lips, begging her to touch him, feel him, embrace him. More, he cried. More. 

She answered with no hesitation, pulling his face down and forcing her lips to his. A groan rumbled from Rhys's chest as he deepened their kiss and opened his mouth for her, her tongue gliding into his, savoring every second-every moment.

Closer, Feyre thought, shifting her body towards his, forgetting Rhys's hands that were holding her precariously in the sky. She turned towards him, shifting her weight…

And then she was falling.


	2. Chapter 2

No longer was Feyre a star in the sky.

No—right now, she was a comet, a streak of light. And she was hurtling towards the ground.

Feyre screamed. A blood-curdling, ear shattering scream as she grasped for something— _anything_ —to save her from splattering on the pavement, but as she threw her arms out, all she felt were the clouds. Those damned, intangible clouds that evaded her grip, forcing her arms to flail about in a fruitless attempt to take hold.

_Wings._ She hadn’t flown since the war. Since she had no choice but to use them to survive, and since then, she’d take walking over the sore, aching muscles that bout of flying had caused her.

So Rhys flew her around until she felt ready to fly again, to train. And she certainly didn’t mind the pampering, especially if it meant savoring Rhys’s touch as he flew her around Velaris—around Prythian—at dusk, melting into the colors of sundown and nightfall.

The grassy plain of the earth drew near.

She tried to summon those wings, focusing the core of her power on those inherited abilities from the Spring Court.

A shadow formed at her back. Another followed suit.

_Focus, breathe. Focus._ Feyre strained to materialize the shadows at her back, the same ones that were helplessly flapping to lift her up, only to find that they had no effect on the surrounding air.

Her body ached in response, ready to give up this useless endeavor. But then she felt it. A wing on her back. Small, but present. Trying to lift her, save her.

It flapped wildly, causing her to spin in helpless circles as she continued to fall.

Her other wing wouldn’t materialize. _This is the time when I’d really love a knight in shining armor_ thought Feyre.

_How about a ‘night’ in Illyrian leathers, does that work?_ Rhys sent down their bond with an accompanying chuckle. _Coming, darling._

_I swear on the Cauldron that when I get my hands on—_

Wisps of night enveloped Feyre, surrounding and cushioning her as they slowly brought her towards the ground. She let out a deep sigh, savoring the bed of stars beneath her.

_Care to join me, High Lord?_ Feyre crooned at the approaching winged male. 

_For someone who was just falling through the sky, you’re awfully calm._  

_For someone who’s mate was about to splatter on the earth, you sure took a long time to come to her aid._

Rhys snorted and shrugged his shoulders. _I thought you had it under control._

“Prick,” she muttered, barely loud enough for Rhys to pick up on.

“I’m _your_ prick,” he said, lifting her from the bed of stars and pulling her close to him, pressing his lips to the top of her head, kissing her, “I will always save you.”

She smiled. “I like it when you act all heroic.” 

“Maybe I should do it more often,” he said, letting Feyre rest her head in the crook of his neck, “Rhysand, best knight of the Inner Circle. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” 

“I’ll knight you anytime, Rhys,” she joked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

He gave her a quick squeeze and started their descent back towards the earth, the trees of the forest growing in size as they came into view. 

“I think we’ve had enough flying for one night,” Rhys said, gently setting her down on the lush grass of the forest floor. 

She took his hand. “I’d love a night under the stars with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

She was never going to get up from that forest floor, Feyre decided, lying down next to her mate on the lush grass. Rhys pulled her close, making idle circles on her back, soothing those aching muscles where her wing had appeared.

_Never going to get up, eh?_ Rhys crooned down the bond.

_I find I quite like the ground…when I’m not about to splatter onto it._  

A deep, rich sound filled the air as Rhys laughed. 

_Not funny!_ Feyre snapped. _I could have died!_  

_Feyre darling, do you have so little faith in me that you expected me to_ let _you splatter? I don’t know how I’d survive eternity without our nightly…how shall I say…activities._  

She gave him a vulgar gesture. 

_You know, you’re beautiful when your temper flares. Is that an Archeron sister thing—_

 She let out a low snarl, taunting—teasing Rhys to continue. _Try me,_ it said. _Let’s see what happens if you finish that sentence._  

“Such a cruel, beautiful female,” he breathed, turning Feyre around to face him, his violet eyes piercing in the night sky. 

She stuck her tongue out, widening his already broad grin and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. 

“I think you can be sexier than that, Feyre,” he murmured, kissing the nape of her neck. Her jawline. The sides of her mouth. 

Feyre leaned into those kisses, her back arching, the apex of her thighs tingling in anticipation. Asking—no, begging, Rhys for more. 

“That’s more like it, Feyre darling. Now, if I remember, before you took that tumble, we—”

_Less talk, more this_ , Feyre growled down the bond, sending him images of Rhys licking her, touching her, _inside_ of her.

_Your wish is my command, High Lady,_ replied Rhys, his voice thick and heavy. Effortlessly, he pulled Feyre underneath him, wings flaring. She went to touch those wings, feel the silky membrane that made Rhys roar to completion…

Rhys grabbed her hands, pulling them away from his wings and entwining them with his.

“No. Not yet. I—let me—I want to touch you first.” 

She gave him her best imitation of a lazy, male smile. _I have no objections to that_. 

Rhys cocooned them in warmth and night and stars, gently pulling off her cloak, her leather pants, her sweater.

Until all that was left was that red lingerie he’d been begging her to buy from the shop. 

_I see you dressed up for me,_ he purred down the bond. 

_I thought you might like a surprise. I was saving it until we got to the cabin, but…now’s good a time as any._

He eyed her up and down. Once. Twice.

_Then let me feast on you, Feyre darling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

Feyre lay naked, nestled in Rhys’s arms, his wings surrounding her in a blanket of warmth, protecting her from the cold of the forest floor and the short, crisp bites of wind that rustled through the trees now and again. Rhys traced indolent shapes on her back, his touch light, soothing. A touch that reminded her of that tiny attic at the top of the inn, where the same touch put her right to sleep despite the claustrophobia and the cold, discomfort of the room…despite the words left unsaid.

“Sleep, Feyre,” she swore she heard Rhys whisper, a soft moan escaping her lips in answer.  

_Now now, Feyre, Darling, it’s not time to sleep yet. Open those stunning blue eyes of yours._  

Feyre groaned. 

_Do you really want to spend the night on the forest floor, covered in grass and mud, unprotected?_  

_I really don’t think I’d mind, so long as I have a High Lord protecting me,_ she retorted.

Rhys chuckled. _If you’re not going to get up yourself, I guess I’ll have to…_ He started to lift her, forcing her into an upright position.

She refused to move any further. 

_You stubborn, beautiful, female, am I to assume I have to carry you?_

Giving him a feline smile, she replied. _I’m waiting._

It took no time for Rhys to scoop her in his arms, preparing to shoot back into the sky, to their next destination. 

“Rhys, wait.”

He paused, staring into those piercing blue eyes of hers.

“If you’re afraid you’ll fall agai—”

“No, Rhys, I’m not afraid of that. Never. But I _would_ at least,” she said, looking down and waving her hand across her body, “like some clothes before we take off flying to…wherever we’re going. Where is that, by the way?”

There was a spark in his violet eyes, a spark entirely reserved for her as he replied. “What, Feyre Darling, don’t want to soar in the skies nude with me? It’s not like we _haven’t—”_

“Clothes. Now."

“The only clothes you have left that aren’t covered in grass and mud are these,” Rhys sighed, pulling out a pair of loose, black pants and a cream-colored tunic from a pocket in the world, “I think you’re going to need new underthings, though.” 

Looking down, Feyre saw the state of her newly bought lingerie, coated in grass stains and mud from earlier. 

“You’re buying me new ones.” 

“Only if I get to come with,” Rhys said with a wink. 

“Prick.”

“I’m _your_ prick.”

Feyre put on her tunic and pants, Rhys impatiently hurrying her along. Wherever they were going, he was excited. _Too excited,_ Feyre thought.

They shot into the sky, into the endless sea of stars, Feyre’s hair swirling around in the wind. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of citrus and the sea. Of Rhys, of her mate.

She felt the beat of his heart, the pump of his wings, the rise and fall of his chest. She felt the rumble of his words as he spoke, telling Feyre of the times he would fly with his mother, around Velaris, around the Night Court, even around Prythian itself. Her mate, telling her stories of his childhood. Of his life. Of his mother _._  

And here he was, showing her all that the Night Court had to offer. Not just the starlight of Velaris, not just the brutality of the Illyrian war camps or the Court of Nightmares, but everything. He wanted to show her the world. His world. Their world.

Rhys tipped her chin up, kissing her gently. Lovingly. “Look at the sky.” 

She adjusted, tilting her head so she could see the world beyond. Her eyes widened.

The violets and reds of the earlier sunset had disappeared, replaced by darkness. Not an overwhelming, stifling darkness, but one of welcome—of warmth. The stars glimmered and sparkled in front of her, illuminating the night sky, inviting them—no, beckoning them—to soar higher, to fly further.

A tear slid down Rhys’s cheek. “This. This is what I missed for those fifty years she kept me underground. Not just Velaris, or Starfall, but…this. The way the stars twinkled in the sky while I flew below them, the way the sky beckoned me towards it every night, to fly, to… _see_.”

Feyre kissed his tears away. Softly. Slowly. Like he did for her not so long ago.

“My mother…she loved flying. Especially out here, where the sky is so perfect, so calm, where you can see the stars more clearly. And whenever we would fly out here, she would see how happy I was, how utterly carefree I became. She always said when I flew my eyes sparkled like the stars. A true son of the Night Court, she would say. She told me never to lose that twinkle.”

“But I did,” he pressed on, the tears silently streaming down his face, “when I was stuck under…with _her,_ I lost it. And I knew my mother was looking down on me, cursing me for losing that spark, that goodness. But then…Feyre, you came along, and it was like a dream. My world lit up, that spark returned. My mother, if she were still alive, would tell me no matter what, I would have found you—that you were always going to be the one to bring back the light. And…she was right. You are my light, my stars, Feyre Darling.”

She wiped away his tears, kissing his cheek. That twinkle in his eyes…that spark she saw in those violet irises—the one that was reserved just for her—it was the same sparkle that came from the stars above them. One of light, of joy. Of love. A sparkle that only gleamed in his eyes after Under the Mountain—one he she hadn’t seen until he stumbled back, realizing she was his mate—and vanished.

Silver lined Rhys’s bright eyes. He had dreamed of her for so long, and here she was, curled up in his arms, his High Lady. His Wife. His Mate. _His._

Feyre looked up at him, at the beautiful, strong male that held her, repeating the words exchanged at the Summer Court before the war, before they were mates.

“To the stars who listen—and the dreams that are answered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After flying for what feels like hours, Feyre and Rhys land somewhere familiar

Feyre wasn’t sure how long they’d been flying. The stars were long gone, replaced by the eager sun, the light streaming through the darkness in shades of pink and blue as it rose into the sky. 

She looked at her mate, cool sweat dripping from his brow. They’d been riding the wind for hours now, Rhys barely having to pump his massive wings, but holding Feyre and keeping them in the air was clearly a strain, though one he would never admit to. Exhaustion marred all of his features, his eyes drooping and body starting to slump. They started to lose speed and neared the ground, flying closer now to the trees and earth than the open air of the sky, Rhys slowing down to accommodate his weariness. 

_We need to find somewhere to rest,_ Feyre sent down the bond, hoping he’d listen. 

He gave her a slight smile, responding with a quiet _We’re almost there._  

_Where are we going?_  

His grin grew, Rhys giving her a toothy smile as he sent down the bond, _I thought you’d recognize our location. Looks Like I’ll be surprising you tonight, Feyre darling._

_Today,_ she corrected.

_And tonight,_ Rhys purred, his eyes wild with desire for his mate. He had to resist sending images of his plans down the bond, had to resist making her toes curl, seeing the lust in her eyes at his… 

_Rhys._ He snapped out of his trance at the sound of her voice, his wings flapping wildly to keep them in the air, having hit a particularly nasty draft from the wind. He shook his head, regaining his composure quickly, and his wings resumed a steady beat until they were moving at a normal pace again. 

_Sorry Feyre, darling, I was lost in thought. Won’t happen again._  

_It better not,_ she snapped back, looking into his violet eyes, _or I’ll fly us from now on._

_Where’s the fun in that?_ He joked right back.

_Well at least if_ I _were flying, I wouldn’t get distracted._

_Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Feyre, how would you be able to resist getting lost in my starry eyes while you flew me through the sky?_  

_Prick,_ she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

_There’s the mate I love,_ he said, his chest rumbling as he chuckled quietly to himself, _we’re almost there._

_Where—_ Feyre looked ahead, her surroundings becoming clearer as Rhys lowered them to the ground, gently landing on a patch of soft grass and setting her on her feet. Before her, on the path before her stood a brothel. A supply store. An outfitter’s store. A tavern, and…an inn.

“Rhys, are we…” Feyre breathed, taking in the sight of the small town, the smell of the fresh, dewy grass mixing with whatever was being cooked in the tavern. She barely recognized the town, save for the inn; with Summer at its peak, the town was livelier than she’d ever seen it…granted she’d only been there once, and spent most of the time in the attic of the inn. The heat had everything in full bloom, attracting more travelers who wished to see the lands of the Night Court and all they had to offer. Despite the hustle and bustle, she couldn’t help but stare at the inn, the very place that years ago, they—

“Yes, we are, darling,” he said, holding out his hand to lead her towards the run-down building, a smile plastered on his face. 

She obliged him, placing her hand in his, as they walked hand-in-hand towards the inn that held such intimate memories.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landing somewhere familiar, Feyre finds a surprise.

From the outside, the inn was exactly as Feyre remembered. The siding’s paint was peeling off, revealing the muddy, ancient wood beneath. Some patches of wood were repainted, but they were at least two or three shades darker than the original paint. The roof, likewise, was in clear disrepair, being made mostly of patched up leaks than actual, original roof. It was a mismatched mess, but went with the rest of the inn. The windows—or the few that weren’t broken—were fogged up, leaving the inside hidden, but Feyre knew exactly what to expect when she opened the door—a cracked desk, covered in mud. An unfriendly inn owner, who just wanted guests out of his way. The sounds and smells from the bathing halls two floors above trickling down into the sad excuse of a lobby. And at the top—a poor excuse for a room, given the size—an attic. 

Feyre smiled faintly at the inn and squeezed her mate’s hand. “Why are we here?” 

“It’s all part of my plan, Feyre darling,” Rhys said, giving her a wink. 

“A plan? Really, Rhys? You’re telling me you _planned_ for us to end up here—”

“It might not have happened exactly as it was supposed to,” Rhys said, dragging a hand through his hair, “given I didn’t expect a certain someone to fall out of my arms while we were flying…but yes. We were always going to end up here.” 

She rolled her eyes, giving him a breathy laugh, and pointed to the inn. “This place is a dump. You know it. I know it. So why?” 

“I’m not so sure you’ll be saying that in a few minutes” he said, squeezing her shoulders gently. “Now let’s go inside.”   

The door to the inn was, well…much like the rest of the building, it was in need of repairs. The wood had been mostly eaten away by now, leaving only a thin layer keeping out the wandering fae at night. There was no lock, but Feyre supposed that magic could supply one, if the owner cared much about the guests inside. 

Rhys tapped her shoulder, a polite request for her to move out of the way, and opened the door for his mate. “Ladies first,” he crooned.

“I don’t see why we—” Rhys nudged her forward, encouraging her to go inside. Giving him a puzzled look, Feyre took one step in. Then another. 

Her eyes went wide at the sight in front of her. 

The tattered desk was gone, replaced by one of the most beautiful pieces of woodwork she’d ever seen. Behind it stood, Mor, beaming at her and gesturing for Feyre to look at the rest of the remodeled lobby.

The ratty, barely-existent curtains were now a plush, velvet red, matching the new fireplace she found in the center of the room, surrounded by what looked to be the comfiest couches and chairs Feyre had ever laid eyes on. In fact…they reminded her of the ones she had asked Rhys to put in the townhouse a few months ago. 

“I told you I listened to you,” Rhys said, walking up behind her and pulling her towards him.

She turned around and gave him a peck on the nose. “I said I wanted these in the _townhouse,_ not here…wait, Rhys, did you buy—” 

“He did, and made us keep it from you for _months,_ ” Mor said, gesturing to her cousin, “‘I want to surprise Feyre,’ he said, ‘don’t go ruining this for me,’ he said. Obviously Cassian couldn’t be trusted, I mean, the male can’t keep a secret if his life depended on it, and Azriel was too busy, and Amren…well, she’s been at Summer so much she couldn’t oversee repairs, so…Rhys asked me to oversee everything. And to keep it from you, of course,” she added, winking. 

“Is this place…ours?” Feyre asked, still taking in her surroundings. 

“In theory, yes. We’ll always have a room in the attic, and before you ask, it’s remodeled, and much bigger, so there’s plenty of space for our… _other activities,_ ” he said, sending an accompanying image down the bond.

_Later,_ Feyre responded down the bond, _later tonight, let’s make that a reality._  

_I like the way you think._

“Can you two stop before your scent sends the guests away? This _is_ still an inn, after all,” chirped Mor, a slight bite in her tone. 

“So this place is still an inn, then?” 

“Yes, Feyre darling. I only bought it and remodeled it; the original owner gave it up pretty quickly, and I’ve already hired his replacement. Mor’s here to oversee final repairs. Namely, the façade. I haven’t fixed that up quite yet, because I wanted to get the inside done before we arrived.” 

“And all this,” Feyre said, waving a hand to gesture to the newly redecorated inn, “to surprise me?” 

“Well…yes,” he said, blushing a bit, “I figured we might want another place to relax, away from it all, and I figured the inn was a better place than any. But I also wanted to make sure my people—and anyone who comes through this territory—have a safe, comfortable place to stay on their travels. One that doesn’t reek of a bathing house. And it’s free for them to stay in, too. No charge. It wouldn’t be fair for me to collect a profit from a place like this.” 

_Free?_ The thought that anyone could come here, could rest safely, without fear…Feyre smiled at the thought. No one ever offered her a warm, cozy place to stay during her human life in poverty. They were always too caught up in appearances, how it would look if they aided a poor, starving girl. But her mate, her generous, loving mate, never cared much for keeping up appearances, and had made a place for everyone, regardless of circumstance. No one would be turned away, rich or poor, High Fae or not, anyone would have a bed and food waiting for them if they chose to traverse this territory. _Next,_ she thought, _we should build one in the human territory. So what happened to me could never happen again._

Rhys must have heard her, because he quickly responded, _I think that’s a great idea, Feyre darling._

_I’m always full of good ideas,_ she crooned back, beaming at her mate. 

_I think you’re right, High Lady,_ Rhys said, taking her hand. _How about you show me some of those ideas right now?_

_Only if you show me the attic room first._

_It’d be my pleasure,_ he responded, leading her up the stairs. 

Mor wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “You two are disgusting.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic will be updated about every other week and will be relatively short. I hope you enjoy! Comments are always appreciated :)


End file.
